


Heaven has a way of doing things

by JayMitchell



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2896340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayMitchell/pseuds/JayMitchell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t the fall that killed him. But perhaps, the things that would follow might. Or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven has a way of doing things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissAtomicBomb77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAtomicBomb77/gifts).



> This was written for The Newsroom Secret Santa project at tumblr, for missatomicbomb77, who requested for anything Charlie Skinner.
> 
> If you've watched the last two episodes of the season, then you would know that - that thing happened. This is a me putting my "I refuse to accept that" in the really long written form.

It wasn’t the fall that killed him.

In fact, he can’t remember what he felt. He was sure he was falling, to somewhere- seeing blurred faces, hearing voices. His name, someone (a lot of someones), saying his name over and over again, asking him to hang on.

Hang on to what?

He really tries to remember, while waiting in this conference room.

_(Why does it look so familiar?)_

The door opens, and finally, after a long time of waiting, someone walks in.

_(Did he really wait that long?)_

“Hey,” the man says, taking the seat on the far end of the circular conference table. _(Wait a minute.)_ He places a small white folder in front of him, opens his crisp, white jacket to get a shiny silver pen. He arranges it on top of the folder, before folding his hands in front of him. “How are you?”

“Hmmm?” was all he managed to say.

The man’s eyes grow wide. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no. You haven’t been debriefed yet, haven’t you? I told them to place you at a familiar scenario. This is probably confusing you right now…”

At that moment, the white room gets some colour - or at least some wood paneling.

The man admires his surroundings, then looks back at him. “Better?”

At this point, he really did not know what to say. “I guess.”

“I’ll take it,” the man smiles as he takes the pen and opens the folder.

“So, Charles Skinner. Let me start off by saying, there are people up here who are great fans of your work.”

He can’t help but repeat the words “Up here.”

The man simply nods. “Of course, down there too, but they’re more of .. Uh… shall we say, enthusiastic commenters?” It seems that he doesn't notice Charlie trying to piece together everything that was happening around him. He goes on.

“You did some time down there huh. Good friend, great mentor, grand father and husband. Ohh, did I mention great mentor?”

_(Is this… The AWM boardroom?)_

“But, well. As anyone who lived down there, you had your moments of… Well, not so great ones. Fiery temper, usually drunk - I am so sorry sir, we do not have those here. And please don’t ask Jesus to turn water into bourbon, it was only a one time show.”

_(Oh God.)_

“Where the-“ a beep almost cuts him off, but he manages to continue.

“Am I?”

The man in the far end of the table raises an eyebrow. “They really did not tell you anything, huh?”

“You think?”

The man laughs, a sincere one, and closes the folder once again. “Now there’s the Charlie Skinner some people here look up.. Wait, down?… Oh well. Look at. The Charlie Skinner they look at to.” He tries to make sense of what he had just said as he walks to him, pausing by the drinks trolley to pour a glass of water. He finishes the walk to Charlie and sets down the glass.

“I guess I could extend the intro a bit, but your file says you might punch me in the face. I still have a lot more to welcome, so I prefer my face to remain as it is.”

He leans on the table and extends out his hand.

“My name is Peter. And this is, well. This is your heaven.”

Charlie kept looking back at the hand, then at the man who just introduced himself as Peter.

“Peter. As in Saint Peter? Guardian of the Pearly Gates?”

“Pearly Gates is an overrated concept, we shifted to ‘let the soul adjust to the idea of heaven by putting them into place that makes them happy’ concept. Though if it makes people feel comfortable, we still use the Pearly Gates. I have to say Charlie, if a boardroom makes you happy, I have no idea what would make you euphoric.”

Peter laughed at his own joke, only to catch up that Charlie was still processing everything.

“I’m dead.”

“Yes.”

“I died.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m in heaven?”

“Yep.”

“That’s why it was white when we… I don’t know, started?”

“Probably, but wanna talk about why you chose a boardroom?”

Charlie shook his head slowly.

“Good. Because like I said, I still have a lot of new joiners to greet, and well… Okay, this would have been probably easier if they debriefed you.”

A snap of his fingers, and the folder from the other end appeared in front of him.

“I’ll be honest with you Charlie. You were a pretty hard sell - fighting for you up here and down below. Well, we almost always are with souls, but, eh that’s the afterlife. But hey! We got you!”

Peter raised his fist as if to declare victory, and the Hallelujah chorus burst out of nowhere. It was Charlie’s turn to raise an eyebrow at that.

“You’d think that would be kinda cool in a place where the hallelujah chorus practically bursts every minute.”

Charlie shrugs at that. “You tried.” Peter smiles in reply.

“I can give you time to process the whole thing. And I am here to tell you go what’s about to happen in your life after life. So listen up.

Everyone up here has a job. Some of them can change, some choose to do one thing for the rest of their lives. Depends on the person really. We give them a taste of what they can do, and if not, we can give them another one.”

Peter hands in the white folder to Charlie. “This, Mr. Skinner, is yours.”

Charlie opens the folder, and to his surprise, contained a full page picture of a home pregnancy test, showing a positive result.

“Meet the Baby McAvoy.”

At that, Charlie’s head snaps up. “Are you -“ a beep cuts him off, this time but Peter answers the question. “We beep out cursing here Charlie.”

Charlie repeats the question without the offending word.

"That's better. Anyway, we do not kid. You are, this baby’s honorary guardian angel! That’s great right?”

Charlie looks at the page again, this time, it changed to a picture of an ultrasound film.

“What the-“

“Time is a bit…” Peter shakes his hand in the air. “It’s confusing at first, but you’ll get a hang of it.”

Peter makes Charlie face him, grabbing his shoulders and looking at him squarely in the eyes. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it or not, is to protect and guide young girl, as she grows. Bring her to the life of light, walking in the path of the Lord.”

"She?"

"Yes sir, ultrasound don't lie!"

As if on cue, the the boardroom doors open to a blinding flash of light. Peter helps Charlie to his feet, shoving the folder to his chest.

“Wait hold on now-“ Charlie protests as Peter continues to push him towards the really blinding flash of light. Peter, on the other hand, kept chatting on about the duties of a guardian angel - none of which, Charlie heard.

“One of the angels will send you the debriefing package you should have received. Meantime, heads up! She’s about to be born!”

Charlie goes for a final scream, or yelling - he just has to air out his grievance somehow.

“I mean, what the-“

\-----

“FUUCCKKK!!!”

Doctors might have heard all kinds of obscenities in the delivery room. Soon to be mothers went for the tirade of profanities, some threatened bodily harm to the fathers, others vowed to not let the husband touch them again.

In Mackenzie McHale (McAvoy)’s case, she went with all three.

“YOU WILL NOT, TOUCH ME - OH SWEET JESUS CHRIST, I AM MURDERING YOU MCAVOY!”

Beside her, holding her hand, or experiencing the vice-grip that was her hand, was one Will McAvoy, who had thought he had all the bases covered during Mac’s pregnancy. He took classes, listened to the advice of mothers, fathers, read the books.

(He was determined to be a better father than his father ever was.)

So right now, he takes in everything that Mac was giving him.

From the moment that they saw the baby in ultrasound, to him stealing light touches on Mac’s growing belly, to her being so close to being escorted away by security because she was shying away from resting - all of those events led to this moment.

And it was worth it.

Mac could yell at him for this moment for the rest of his life, he didn’t care. Love was about to be born into the world.

\-----

Charlie wasn’t expecting to land smack dab into the delivery room. And he didn’t land either - he fell back to earth, face down, in the middle left side of the delivery room. It was Mackenzie’s screaming - and Will yelling - that made him stand to attention.

The scene was a familiar one - well, Nancy wasn't really yelling at him, on the count that he was on his way to the hospital. But still, it was what he'd thought it would be, when his oldest was born. Two parents, who have loved and cherished each other for some time, and that their love would grow into a family.

Mac and Will are deserving of this life.

Though it's getting a bit awkward right now- he knew these people and he's seeing things he's pretty sure he's not supposed to see. So, he turns around.

One final push, one final obscenity, and the doctor heaves a sigh of relief. "Hello there," Charlie hears her say, and when he looks back at them, he sees Mac crying, surely out of joy. Will looks stupefied - it's not until Mac leans her head on his shoulder, that he reacts, looking back and forth at Mac and at the newborn child.

Charlie smiles at a speechless Will.

The doctors and the nurses congratulate the new family, one of them going, "I may not like what you do on TV Mr. McAvoy, but you two have done good here."

Mac was about to launch into a tirade at him, only for Will to calm her down. "His wife is gonna be her pediatrician, sweetheart." She opens her mouth to counter, only for the nurse to bring them the baby.

"Hi there," they both say at the same time, and this makes them chuckle.

Charlie drinks the view in. Mac kept on fixing the blanket they wrapped her in, Will could only keep on kissing Mac's hair while staring at their child. The little girl was as still, though she herself would seem like she's taking in the image of her parents.

He dares to go behind them, to get a better look.

"Hey there," he tells her. Is that the standard greeting for new born babies nowadays?

When they were asked for a name, Will looked at Mac, who nodded in silent agreement.

"Charlotte. Charlotte Marie McHale McAvoy. Charlie."

Charlie did a double take. "Me? You're naming the kid after me?" He's not sure whether he should smack Will on the back of his head, or just cry silent tears and accept this honor these two bestowed on their daughter.

He turns his attention to baby Charlotte - Charlie.

"Don't worry kid - not much pressure there."

It may be his parenting instincts, but he could have sworn Charlotte opened her eyes just to see him with her parents.

\-----

Remember the primer he was supposed to somehow get?

No such primer arrived.

Charlie waited, looking ridiculous as he would look up to heaven and yell, really yell, for help, advice, or anything really, on how to be a guardian angel.

"They named their kid after me! There is some pressure here!"

Nothing.

When the McAvoys went to hear mass, he tried to get the answers he was looking for - he figured, this might have some more direct access compared to Charlotte's room.

Nothing.

Therefore, Charlie Skinner spent some odd four or six years trying to figure out how one should be a guardian angel. Illustrations in children's books certainly didn't help - he didn't look like one.

For example, he learned - rather painfully - that he could not be far away from Charlotte. The farthest he got was outside their home, another step more, and he is pulled back to her, like a rubberband released after being stretched. The sensation he would feel is similar - that he is snapped back to his place beside her, and oh did it sting.

When Charlotte learned how to talk, and boy, did she inherit the gift of conversation from her parents, she asked so many questions about "her guardian angel."

"Okay, but look at this!" Charlotte said as she furiously flipped through the pages of the coloring book Aunt Maggie had given her. "See? Angels have big wings and they wear dresses and they have gold hair like mine!"

He hasn't gotten to that part of the discovery yet.

(He had asked if he could tweak the details a bit.)

(Nothing.)

"Well. It really depends on the angel. Dresses are good once in a while, but... Winds aren't really nice to dresses."

Charlotte frowns at this. "I know! And when I run the skirt just goes whoosh! I have to pull it down. I'd like to wear what you would wear, and like what daddy would wear. It's wind proof!"

Charlie sighs at this, at least that part was done.

"But where are your wings?"

He sighed too soon.

"Well..."

"Charlotte!"

Will's booming voice saved the day.

"Daddy!" Charlotte dropped the coloring book as soon as Will entered her room. She ran, jumping to her father's open arms. It's a well practiced act, something that Mac had warned them both to absolutely not do, lest one or both would end up in a hospital.

(They still do it, when Mac's not looking.)

Charlie smiles as Will practically closes her in a bear hug. Will had this fatherly need to protect her from everything the world might give. "Ask you father if you could watch Finding Nemo," Charlie once told Charlotte, for he wanted Will to see that there are simply things he couldn't protect the little girl from.

Will did not get the message he was trying to get across.

Father and daughter bonded for what seemed like hours, Charlie watching them, guarding, protecting, as the main job description entailed him to do.

A soft knock, and in comes Mac, more tired than he's ever seen her, and yet, beaming the moment her daughter flew straight to her for a hug.

This made her younger, with the smile being passed to the father.

Will could only respond with a shrug.

They tuck her in for the night, and as they go to rest as well.

This family does things to his heart.

\-----

Charlotte keeps on asking about his wings.

He can't quite give her an answer that would be satisfying to the two of them, and it is harder on his side.

He doesn't have wings - or at least the grand, majestic ones that come in the books.

Instead, he had a small group of feathers, no bigger than his palm, on each shoulder blade. They weren't even snow white - they were grey, at which Charlie had wondered if these were standard entry level wings, or if these were the kinds you earn, like epaulettes on a pilot.

This difference in angel expectations caused trouble to little Charlotte one day.

He had simply been minding the papers on the side - AWM stock was on the rise - when Charlie heard Charlotte scream at the top of her lungs.

He ran to her side - he could have flown but, curse his tiny wings - to see her with a bloody nose, fighting off with one of the bigger kids in her class. "Charlotte!" he had yelled, but it fell on deaf ears. He could easily lift Charlotte away from the bully, but that would mean result to terrified preschoolers who would believe their school is now haunted.

"You're a liar and your daddy lies too!" the bully yelled.

"Oh no you didn't." Charlie muttered under his breath, distracting him a bit from trying to catch Charlotte's attention.

This prompts Charlotte to go red on the face, screaming and launching another attack at her.

It took another five minutes for someone of authority to pull the two apart, and it's this that Charlotte saw him. On the verge of crying, Charlie motioned for her to keep her chin up.

She tried.

Another hour, and in came rushing Will and Mac, emotions all over the place. Mac gasped at Charlotte's state then demanded to know who was responsible for this. Will had simply gathered his little girl in his arms, and as he had been doing ever since, held her close to him.

There was not enough time to go back to their home - prompting the two to bring Charlotte to work.

Charlie breathed in deep. It has been a while.

\-----

Will and Mac had decided early on that they would try to separate home and work, for Charlotte. When the day was done, they would leave work at their building, come home to their daughter, and focus what energy left they had on her. Their co-workers and peers respected this, with the exception of Lucas Pruitt - of course. They have learned to simply ignore any of his calls, facing his wrath together the next day.

This was an exception.

The whole news room cooed over Charlotte, with Jenna volunteering to clean her up at the clinic, Martin running to the nearest bakery to buy her what cupcake she would so desire, Gary carrying her up and showing her around the place.

Charlotte was overwhelmed with the attention she was getting, but she kept looking at Charlie, who was following her, not far behind.

She's never seen Charlie almost cry.

"We still have a show to do!" Will yelled at the lot, who were now devouring cupcakes and hot choco with Charlotte.

"Jim will take care of it!" Martin yelled back, as he finished up his cupcake and took another one from the box.

"Jim is with you!"

Charlotte laughed as Tamara and Tess took Jim by the arms and dragged him away from the conference room and to the direction of the control room.

Mac smiled as she leaned on Neal's desk. "Remind me again why we did not want to bring Charlotte to work?"

"Because she might decide to become an anchor and replace me at the young age of 10."

"Instead?"

"I am loosing my journalists."

Mac faced him and started fixing his tie. "Lucas said something?" Will asked as she smoothed out some invisible wrinkle in his suit.

"Lucas is in no position to say anything after his boardroom - bedroom debacle that is now gracing Page Six."

Will smiles at that. "Keeps him off our backs for a few days, at least."

Mac nudges his chin up, as he makes a move to hold her in place. "Oh don't worry, Sloan is determined to turn that into weeks."

\-----

Charlie sat at the far end of the conference table, amazed at how these journalists suddenly turned mush and were under a six year old's thumb. When he decided to move around for a closer look, Charlotte looked at him, making him reply, "I'll be back."

It was a nice feeling to be back.

"Where is she?"

He almost got scared out of his state when he turned around, looking for the source. Lo and behold, Sloan came storming in, followed by a worried Don.

"How can you possibly walk fast in heels?" he asked as she made her way to the conference room.

"No high heeled shoe can stop me from protecting my godchild."

Charlotte gave a delightful squee as Sloan picked her up from the chair and held her close. "Who hurt you sweetie? Who? Tell me the family name and I will do things with numbers that are related to their names."

Don sighed. "Sloan, don't teach the child rightful vengeance, teach her addition and subtraction first."

Charlotte looked down, shame starting to creep in. "It's okay Auntie Sloan... I started the fight."

Martin made his gasp heard. Jenna started shaking her head, "No, no, don't tell that to your mommy and daddy okay?"

The little McHale-McAvoy's lips started to tremble. "But Shirley said that angels aren't real! She said that they don't exist!"

Sloan turned to her serious instructor mode, Don stopped her from starting.

"But they are! They are real! They wear Carl Fredricksen clothes and bowties and they have tiny wings, so they can't fly, so they walk with you the whole day!"

This made everyone look at her.

"Carl Fredricksen..." Gary started

"The old man from Up." Kendra helped.

"Bowties?" came from Tess.

"Tiny wings?" was from Don.

Charlotte nodded at each seemingly unasked question. She then looked at Charlie, who was starring at her. "You got into a fight because of me?"

Charlotte nodded one more time.

They all looked at each other, Sloan adjusted her hold of Charlotte, looking at Don for advice on what to do next.

"What's all this commotion about?"

Mac came in just in time, she asked her question with her arms crossed. No one was sure on how to phrase the whole thing to Mac. When noone replied, she turned to Sloan and said, "Sloan, can I have my daughter please?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

Charlotte suddenly latched herself to Mac.

Don mouthed to Mac. "We need to talk." Charlie could only brush Charlotte's hair down. "It's gonna be okay, Charlotte."

\-----

It was odd for Charlie to be in Will's home office, but Charlotte had already fallen asleep, and he wanted to know how Will and Mac were to deal with this.

"Well, she did punch Geraldo's niece..."

Charlie leaned back on the door frame. That was not how he would imagine Will would see things.

"Will!"

"Mackenzie!" he sighs, rubbing his eyes to keep him from going mad. "You've heard Don. She described Charlie. She got into a fight because she said Charlie's her guardian angel. The accuracy freaked my journalists out!"

Mac shook her head. "No, she only described what Charlie wore. We have pictures of Charlie in this house, Will. We named her after him. She must have seen him, or.. Or..."

"Who's Charlie?"

Charlie looked down, and saw Charlotte, hugging her kitten stuffed toy, rubbing her eyes to keep herself awake.

When her parents didn't answer, she stole a glance at Charlie, who simply pointed at her father's desk.

Charlotte is confused.

Will walked to her and picked her up, sitting her down on his desk. Mackenzie followed suit, and held Charlotte close to her.

He picked up one of the frames in the shelf behind him, and showed it to Charlotte. Will barely had time to point who Charlie was - his daughter squealed and pointed at him. "That's him!"

Her parents looked worried.

"That's Charlie," Will started, prying away from his wife's gaze to focus on his daughter. "He is mommy and daddy's good friend, before you were born. He..."

Charlotte looked up to Will, and saw that Charlie was leaning on the shelf behind them. He put his finger to his lips.

"He was very special to us Charlotte. He... Helped mommy and daddy in a lot of ways."

Charlotte looked at Charlie again, the look in which she's asking for his help. Charlie knows; she did not want to see her parents sad.

"Tell them I miss them too."

Charlotte nods.

"Charlie misses you too," she tells her parents. "He misses you and he's okay, you don't need to worry about him."

Will looks at his daughter, as if she's given him the most wonderful news in his life.

Charlie motions for her to give her dad a hug. She follows.

They tuck her in for the night, and Charlie takes his usual place at her window, watching over as she sleeps.

A few minutes after, she asks, "So your name is Charlie?"

"Yep."

"You're mommy and daddy's friend?"

"From a long, long time ago."

"Oh."

A pause, and she continues her inquiry.

"Are Auntie Sloan and Uncle Don your friends too?"

"Yes, and everyone of those people who ate cupcakes with you."

"They miss you."

Charlie smiled at her, he wished her innocence would not go away. He bent down and kissed her on her forehead.

"I miss them all too."

\-----

He's not sure when Charlotte had stopped seeing him, or stopped hearing him. He had gotten used to protecting her for years, that she heeds his lessons and then she asks for help in things.

Then slowly, day by day, he felt her slip away.

To be fair, it wasn't really as negative as he thought it would be. She had simply started being aware of things and making her own decisions - with or without his help. She would get into trouble, with peers and her parents,

She was simply, growing up.

Charlie had nothing left to do, but to watch her grow.

Still, he knew she could still feel his presence. In scenarios where she needed to be steered away, he only needed to tell her, and her actions would more or less have a desirable effect.

She is not lost to him yet.

And as teenagers go, there was the rough patch. He had to watch WIll and Mac go through this phase, the doubt in their hearts if anything went wrong when they were raising her.

If only he could, he would tell them - everyone goes through this phase.

The time came that Charlotte was starting to slip away. He then started to pray for some divine assistance.

The most recent manifestation of this was her insistence on staying in their home, reading in her room to keep up with her book pile. She would rather be there than in some private party.

"Charlie," Will admonished her preferred name, in his preferred tone. "This is important to your mother and I."

Charlie looks at them, and age was slowly creeping up on them. Silver was mixing with blonde and brown, lines were starting.

What didn't disappear, was their love for one another, and their love for their daughter.

He knows Charlotte couldn't hear him, but he begs anyway.

"I want to see my friends again."

Charlotte sighs, as she nods to her father, asking for five minutes.

\-----

Two words were on everyone's lips that night. "Coming home."

Out of all the achievements Reese Lansing had done in his lifetime, this was the proudest he had ever been.

"And I am glad to announce, ACN is coming home."

Cheers from everyone in the ballroom, an appreciative hug from Will and Mac, a friendly handshake from Don and Sloan. The family he had known years ago, once again made whole.

Re-introductions have been made, it has been years since Reese saw their faces on a day to day basis. He was eager to start the work his mother had asked of him.

A figure walks up to him, adjusting his glasses and the book tucked on his arm. Reese sighs, he needed to remind his son that it was all right to take a break once in a while.

"And just on time - Will, Mac. This is RJ, heir to the AWM throne."

"Dad, I though grandma wasn't serious about that."

Will shook his head. "The thing is, when your grandma said something, she's serious about everything."

Reese laughed at that. "There you go - outsider confirmation."

RJ smiled nervously, as he adjusted his glasses again. This doesn't escape Reese's attention, so he leans forward to ask, "Wrong glasses?"

"Yep."

Reese nods in response, giving him leave to just stay put and read his book in peace.

He takes it back - ACN's reacquisition is his second achievement. His son is the first.

\-----

Charlotte spots the boy hunched over a book. She groans, she could be doing the same thing.

She marches up to the boy, taking the seat across him without any announcement.

"Mind if I take your picture? I need proof positive that someone brought a book to this shindig and is reading it despite the noise."

The boy stutters, not sure on how to reply. Charlotte gets her phone, snaps a quick picture, then puts her phone back to her clutch.

The boy is still dazed.

Charlie shakes his head at this. So much for good manners.

"Whatcha reading?"

The boy blinks, and he tries to formulate a sentence to answer the questions. He resorts to show her the cover of the book.

"Ohhh, nice. Philosophy and Pop Culture series. I'm just starting to collect them, but my mom says I can't."

He smiles at her. "I have them all. You can borrow... Whatever you would like to."

Charlotte can't help but return the smile.

Charlie sighs. "Aaand... Introduce yourself, Charlie McAvoy"

"I'm-"

The boy cuts her off. "Charlotte McAvoy. I know." This makes both Charlies raise their eyebrows. "How?" they asked in sync. A simple wave of hello. "Reese Lansing Jr. I prefer RJ, because I don't want to feel the pressure."

This is when Charlotte's eyes open wide. "Holy shit- YOU are a Lansing?"

If they were still in touch, Charlotte would have heard Charlie say, "Holy shit - Reese had a son?"

Charlie hears a laugh, and the pace of high heels that he had not heard for a long time.

"Hello, Charlie."

She was a vision in red.

\-----

Leona may have been laughing for five minutes straight. Or an eternity, it would seem.

"You do know that you could change your appearance right?" she asked as she took the possession of the table opposite RJ and Charlotte.

Charlie sat on the opposite chair, frowning at Leona. "I missed the briefing."

"So it would seem, but it has been years Charlie. YEARS."

His tan dress jacket and kahki pants were not in the appropriate for the celebration. Then again, why would he care?

"We're not gonna be seen anyway!" the retort was the best he could come up with.

Leona leaned to him. "But I can see you."

Charlie studied her carefully, and a thought crosses his mind.

"Are you..." he leans in closer to ask.

Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Yes?"

"Are you RJ's... Other conscience?"

Leona leans back, raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at him. Her remark makes her stand up straight, the dress now clinging to her like second skin.

Her wings, white as snow and bigger than she was, flap twice before settling down.

"Excuse you," she says simply, only smiling when Charlie looks at her from head to toe.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Her smile becomes a smug one, prompting her to fish for compliments."Impressive, yes?"

"How?"

She blinks at him, "Every time your ward does things, one of you gets some wings?"

The rhyme is lost on Charlie.

She folds her wings as she takes her place in the opposite chair.

"You missed the briefing?"

"You don't say."

Leona shrugs, and turns her attention back to Charlie. "Ask me everything you want to know."

\-----

There's a lot of things Charlie found out from Leona. Some were completely guardian angel related, some were about the family she had left behind.

For starters, he now knows that the wing part of the whole guardian angel deal was dependent on the ward. The important part of it was...

"Our young wards aren't supposed to know we exist. We are, quite literally, only to whisper suggestions. And by we, I mean you and the other guy on the other available shoulder."

Charlie buries his face on his hand. "Charlotte got into a fight because of that."

She nods. "Exactly. They are supposed to live normally, with our help, but not us directly helping out. We will whisper, slightly nudge, simply suggest, the direction which should lead them to live good lives."

"I could use a good drink right now."

Leona shakes her head, then reaches out to him to pat his hand.

"Anything else?"

She checks into the situation he's currently in. "You won't see the other guy, basic rule. You make your way to be heard. You won't have any contact with heaven, not until the end of your term as guardian angel-"

Charlie laughs at that. "Oh, that one I am quite well versed."

"Yelled at the clouds, shaking your fist?"

"I would flap my wings, but I'm not sure if they were flapping."

Leona’s eyes grew wide in excitement, as she clapped her hands. "Let me see those wings."

A huff from Charlie. "You already are seeing them."

She tilted her head at him, and she understood. Leona stood up, walked to his back, trying to control the laughter that was about to escape her.

She let it go when when she saw them.

"Oh Charlie... They are adorable!"

She reached out to touch the feathers.

"Stop, please. HEY!" He reached out for her hand. "It tickles."

Leona returned to her chair and smiled at him. "Then they work." This time around, she revealed her wings with less flair. "When you feel a connection to your wings, it means that they work. And don't expect flying around while on earth. When you're here, you walk. When you're up there, you fly. The use of wings around here would be just to scare the Lord into the hearts of men. The more impressive the wingspan, the more fear of the Lord."

He can't help but be jealous of her wings. "May I?"

She nods her consent.

He stands to move behind her, and he sees how wings should be like. The evening backless evening dress she wore was practical for this display of skill - nothing to block her wings from a timely reveal. His hand feels through the soft feathers, the wingtips, down to the shoulder blades where it meets her form.

She shudders at his touch.

"Did mine just... Grow on my clothes?" Charlie asks, to the fact that his wings did not feel like hers.

Leona shrugs. "That one, I'm not sure."

Charlie heaves the heaviest sigh he could tonight, as his focus goes back to Charlotte, listening intently to what RJ was saying. "She needed to hear that reason. Or at least see you, so she knows that impressive wings do exist."

"Wards can't see angels-"

"I know, I know. It would be just nice. I went nuts just to come up with a valid excuse for the wings. Went with the basic 'well, you need to do good buddy'." His focus shifts on RJ, whose glasses are practically falling off with how animated he is with Charlotte. "Wanna talk about RJ there?"

That made Leona break into a proud grandmother smile. "Smartest in his class, he's already skipped a few grades. He likes to read, and to write. Reese raised him with love and happiness in his heart."

Charlie did note that Reese did not have someone tonight.

"Well, this is where it gets tricky. RJ's mom came in one day and demanded that Reese pay for her son. Reese, bless his usual self, was confused. It seemed like during the days leading to him becoming the new owner, greatly diminished what sex he would have had until he never had it at all."

He could not tell if she was being serious in her narrative.

"Anyway, it was one of the last cases Becca worked for us. An easy win for her, really. She was able to prove that Reese wasn't the father, let alone that Reese met the mother sometime in the past."

As if on cue, Reese came by to the table, checking up on RJ and formally introducing himself to Charlotte.

"He asked the woman if she needed help in raising the kid. It may not be his, but maybe he could give something to help her out.

And this next part is something that I will always remember even after I died.

The woman looks at Reese, breaks down in front of him. Turns out that she's not the mother; it was the sister, and she died when she gave birth to RJ. The woman tracked down who the father was, and her little investigative efforts led her to Reese. Only, the father turned out to be Lucas Pruitt."

If Charlie had a drink, he would have spit it out by now. "I'm sorry?"

Leona nods, "You heard me. Lucas Pruitt was the father. The woman was one of the girls that Lucas would invite into his wild parties, but it had been that he was giving out Reese's name.

Reese had two options - take Pruitt's ass to court - he had so much faith in Becca, or that he would take care of this kid as his own. Being the kind hearted man he is capable of, Reese went to the other road. I'm not even sure if Lucas ever knew the truth. All he knows is that just two months ago, Reese Lansing got back at him. The magnitude of that, he has severely underestimated.

RJ is a brilliant boy and he is doing his father proud. He has made Reese into a good father, more than his father ever was."

Her voice cracked, and by instinct, he reached for his handkerchief. "Thanks," Leona said as she dabbed away the tears.

At this, RJ and Charlotte stood up, and while Charlotte was about to walk away, RJ extended his hand. She then made an attempt for the handshake, only for RJ to withdraw the offered hand. They laughed at this, and nodded and waved good bye instead.

“His social skills need more polishing, but he’s going there.”

"Well," Leona smiled, sighing at Charlie. "This is where I leave you. You go your way, and I'll go mine." Standing up, she still made a show of her wings. "It was nice to see you again, Charlie Skinner."

Charlie returned her smile. "Likewise, Leona Lansing." He opened his arms to invite her for a hug, and she gladly accepted it.

And she stole a kiss to his cheek.

"Till we meet again," she whispered, as she bid him good night.

\-----

Heaven had a funny sense of humor.

They did meet again, as RJ made ways to befriend Charlotte. She accepted the gesture of friendship, thus having days and nights of the two meeting at parks and coffee shops, stealing time in unoccupied boardrooms and local bookstores to talk of life and the other’s thoughts.

Both felt relieved to have found a like mind in this world.

Their angels are relieved as well.

Leona and Charlie shared their experiences of guiding RJ and Charlotte, though most of the time, she had laughed at Charlie’s attempts. She would never admit to him that she was jealous of his direct contact with Charlotte - she would have given everything to have that chance with her grandson.

Charlie admired the way Leona had led RJ to the good path he was currently on. She smiles, as she took his arm while they walked behind the pair. Surely, the two were cold, but the way they were carrying the conversation must have kept them warm.

“RJ is shaping up to be a fine fellow.”

Leona snorts at his choice of words. “Fellow, Charlie?” He responds with a smirk, as Charlotte knocks RJ off-balance when she got a bit too enthusiastic with the arm waving.

“Charlotte-“ she starts.

“Give my ward some credit,”

“- is full of energy, that was what I was going to say.”

They watched as Charlotte fussed over RJ, who was trying his best to assure her that he was fine.

“I’m so, so sorry!” she says as she dusts off snow from his coat. “I get, I don’t know.. Like this when I talk of women in the industry.”

RJ adjusts his glasses, looking for words to state that he was fine. “To think that your parents are both journalists, I have no idea why you are interested in finance.”

The glare Charlotte gave him could probably kill. “Don’t mess with my Aunt Sloan.” He nods, “So my father says. I’m pretty sure she was the one he was referring to when he gave me the lecture on betraying a lady’s trust.”

“Why, what happened?”

“Dad said that one of his financial reporters was the victim of a small scandal that involved suggestive photos. Instead of going to a corner to cry, she went to the perpetrator and obliterated his balls.”

Charlotte laughs. “Pretty sure you can’t just go around New York, obliterating men’s balls.”

RJ shakes his head. “Pretty sure if Sloan Sabbith wanted to do that, she would do that.” He smiles at her, and for a moment, he’s just content.

Charlie takes in time to observe RJ. “The boy’s in love.”

Leona smiles at that.

“One part of him feels that it’s just an infatuation - he’s spent most of his school days in a private all boys school. The other, well - he isn’t as open to anyone else as he is to Charlotte.”

They look on to the two, as RJ brushes off the snow on the bench for Charlotte. “I would whisper to him all the time - you are loved. You were given to a man who wanted to feel and give the love he had received when he was growing up, who had, deep in his heart, had fears of being loved.”

The look on Charlie’s face prompted her to continue.

“Reese, it would seem, never met his other half. I could not care who it was - woman, man, both - I’m not sure, but I think my messy divorce with Lansing affected him greatly.”

“Hey,” Charlie nudged her as she wiped away any sign of her tearing up. “Don’t think of that.”

She sighed as she carried on. “He was afraid of being left behind by someone. His friends, some of his relatives - they had histories of cheating and then divorce and he was just… I don’t know, afraid?” Her grip on his arm tightened, making Charlie to give her a reassuring pat. “Instead, he devoted his time to the company, and when RJ came along, gave him some time too. But he’s never found another person in his life.”

Charlie shrugs. “Some people grow old without finding the one. But it doesn’t mean he’s closed off to other forms of love.”

He nods at RJ.

“He was sent to Reese, for reasons beyond our understanding. Was he sent because he was focused too much on work? Because he asked for someone to love? Was he given to RJ because the kid needed him? Who knows? In the end, love comes in different forms.”

Charlie holds her arms, “You’ve done great with RJ, you know that. When you lived, you loved Reese as a mother should, even greater. As an angel? You did the same. And the difference in wings kinda proves my point.”

This makes her laugh, almost in sync with RJ’s, as Charlotte pulls him to the direction of the skating rink.

Charlie follows Charlotte’s lead, grabbing Leona’s hand to catch up with the two.

\- - - - -

The teen years make way to early adulthood, to which RJ and Charlotte grow closer together. The stories Charlie would tell of Will being worried about Charlotte dating RJ would made Leona’s day brighter.

“And Will goes, ‘Are we sure we want her to be a Lansing? I mean, you do remember what it was like?’. Mac just smacks the back of his head, as usual.”

“Glad MacMc hasn’t changed through these years.”

The case can be made for nepotism, but RJ knew the value of working your way in your calling, as his father would always point out to him. He qualified as an intern for ACN, and though there were whispers surrounding his internship, he proved them all wrong.

He may not be a Lansing by blood, but he has done his share of the heavy lifting to prove he is worth the name.

As for Charlotte, she starts her footing at Wall Street, determined to be someone who would change the way it ran.

“That’s like moving continents back to it’s Pangea state.”

“If no one does it, who will?”

Whenever they meet, Leona tells Charlie, there is hope in RJ’s heart that one day, he will be fit enough for Charlotte McAvoy. “Not fit, in the sense of muscular and well, manly. Just the right fit for her in her life.”

“He hasn’t done a thing to show that.”

“He is not sure how.”

Leona suspects that RJ knows, but he cannot act on it. Perhaps he’s afraid of losing the friendship he had, or in a greater scale, to lose her all together.

At night, she whispers to him, “Do not let your fears rule your heart.”

On another side of the city, Charlie looks on as Charlotte makes her way to midnight to ease of the sums in the haywire report in her hands. He knows what his ward is thinking; this was easier back in college.

Someone walks to Charlotte’s desk, dropping off some Chinese takeout.

“You haven’t had breakfast.”

Charlie smiles - the Sabbith-Keefer progeny is not someone to be trifled with.

“I had crackers in between!” Charlotte puts up her defence as she pries away from the screen to look at her friend.

“My mother will kill me if she ever finds out you don’t eat AND you spend long nights. You’re a freshman analyst, you have your life ahead of you!” she starts opening up the take out to let the sweet smell of sweet and sour chicken fill the air.

“Sabrina…”

“Eh? No, no. Shush. Eat. I have back up to help me out on this.”

On cue, RJ comes to her workstation. “Sabrina tells me, to tell you, that this is not cheap Chinese take-out. This is three star level Chinese, and Sabrina Sabbith-Keefer and I would pretty much like to continue on living, if you don’t mind.” He starts distributing drinks to the three of them, then grabbing the opposite chair to sit on with them.

“Jesus Christ, why is this chair still warm?”

Charlotte raises an eyebrow. “Trust me buddy, you don’t want to know.”

RJ shakes his head, opting to stand. “This aids in digestion,” Charlotte laughs at that, and is finally, won over by friends and food.

As they watch this little company of movers and shakers, Leona whispers to Charlie, “Would you believe your bunch of newspeople made them?” Charlie takes her hand and leans to her. “They have raised them well.”

“Well, except for RJ over here,” Leona points at his direction. “He was made by someone from Satan’s side, but we rescued him.”

“Leona.”

“What?”

Through the years of watching their wards, Charlie and Leona grew closer, beyond what they had when they were alive. Charlie hopes that this was their second chance, of a life that they would have had.

He would look at these three, and wonder, had he and Leona made it through, would these children have been born?

As Leona leans on to him to rest, he thinks, that their life back then led to this, that every decision they made meant the shaping of someone else’s futures in the years to come.

He now hopes that this is the life when he would have the life he could have had.

As Charlotte holds on to Sabrina, laughing at something RJ had said, his hope continues to grow.

\- - - - -

She looked lovely in her wedding dress.

Growing up, Charlotte would always breathe in deeply too many times, until her mother or her father would hold her close to reassure her that everything was going to be all right.

She would also hear a voice, telling her the same.

She walks down the aisle, every step slowly gaining confidence.

The voice in her head tells her, “You are always worthy of being loved.”

She looks up, to the altar, to RJ who was giving the look he had always given her all this time; “Everything is going to be all right.”

She takes her place. She takes her hand.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Charlotte Marie McAvoy and Sabrina Sabbith-Keefer, in the bonds of matrimony…”

\- - - - -

It took him years, but he’s finally got the changing appearance part down.

He looks around, and he’s glad to see new faces, old faces, congratulating the newly weds. He’s relieved that the crowd is accepting of the couple; he had feared that bigotry was still existent in this day and age.

If only none of that would be here, just for today.

He looks around, looking for that one person he needed to see.

“Where’s RJ?” Charlotte pulled Reese aside from this question.

Reese points to the direction of the gardens.

Charlotte and Charlie thank him, and walk to there.

\- - - - -

She was a vision in white.

Leona stood near her ward, her grandson, as he walks around in the gazebo.

“Hey there,” Charlotte waves, and RJ waves back. “Hey.” was the only reply he could muster.

Charlie looks at Leona, and walks to her side.

“He will tell her that he is fine, and that she shouldn’t worry about him.”

Charlie watches as RJ says the exact same words.

“He will tell her of rebirth of the international news desk, and that he volunteered for the position in London. It’s not long term, but it was needed to be filled and he just happened to have the credentials for it.”

RJ smiles at Charlotte, who was tearing up. “I didn’t want this.”

“You had nothing to do with it, I swear Charlotte.” RJ starts, as she takes his pocket square to wipe her tears away. “There’s the Charlotte McAvoy I know.”

Charlotte laughs, even for a moment.

“You deserve to be loved, and to love in return. Sabrina’s done that - always done that with you. I knew, because I was there and I was like… The really awkward third wheel.”

“You weren’t-“

“Charlotte, you liked her the first time Sloan introduced her to us.”

She makes one last attempt at him. “You’re leaving because I didn’t love you back.”

Charlotte twists the pocket square in her hands. RJ sighs and hugs her to him.

“I love you, and I always will. But I cannot force you to love me back. I’m happy that we’ve been friends for a very long time.”

RJ nudges her chin.

“Hey, it was way longer than what I was expecting. And Charlotte Marie McAvoy-Mchale Sabbith-Keefer… Dear God, please tell me you guys are just taking one pair for a last name.”

“We’re thinking of it.”

“Well. Charlotte. My charming Charlie, you will always have a special place in my heart. I won’t forget that night you snapped a picture of me gaping at a book because you wanted to prove to Will and Mac that you can read a book everywhere.”

The resolve in his eyes made Charlie glance at Leona. She too, knew that this was the end.

“You’ve made me into this person, I’m not gonna ignore that because you didn’t choose me over Sab.”

The final hug.

“See you around, Charlie.”

With that, Leona turns to her companion, in her previous life and in this one.

The final kiss.

There was hope in their hearts, but they know, as what they had seen, this is simply something that would lead to greater things.

\- - - - -

“OH JESUS CHRIST, NEXT CHILD IS ON YOU - AGHHH!!!”

He’s back into the screaming scenario.

To be fair, Charlie never thought that Sabrina was someone who would not use profanity, even in the direst of situations. He would consider that childbirth might be an exception.

But Sabrina remained steadfast and in control.

This time around, he chose to be with Charlotte - by her side, but behind the birthing process. A reassuring hold on her shoulder, as Sabrina goes in for one last push.

The cry of a new born child is lovely to hear.

He wasn’t expecting for a blinding flash of light in the hospital, the same one he saw years ago. What’s going on? Was he being replaced?

Is he the welcoming committee for this child’s angel?

The delivery room got a bit crowded, though Charlie could have sworn some of the other nurses already left.

“Hey there,”

Charlie looks at the new angel by his side. 

“Was that for me, or for the baby?” Charlie asked, his smile growing by the second.

Nancy shrugged. “The baby. I just welcomed him to this world.”

He walks to her, hugging her close to him. It had been years.

“Good to see you again, Nan.”

“Finally glad to see you, Charles.”

Heaven has a funny way of doing things.


End file.
